Luke couldn't help but feel a little impressed. Roxanne had always struck him as the type of girl who would spend hours in the bathroom trying on different outfits while her best friend was out in the cold, quite possibly frozen to death. But as soon as she had disappeared into her bedroom, she had just as quickly reappeared, dressed in a blue plaid skirt and a ill- matching yellow cardigan, with three of the buttons missing. But the look on Roxanne's face showed just how much she didn't care. The only thing that she cared about now was finding Meg and bringing her home safely. Meg was the very best friend she had, more of a sister, really. And losing Meg would be like loosing a piece of her heart.

Luke's strides were quick and confident, but only his eyes showed how uncertain he really was about what he was going to do. Pulling the lapels of his dark brown coat closer to him, he shivered in the cold, but kept his brisk pace. Looking over his shoulder to see if Roxanne was catching up, Luke let out a sigh. The rush of air formed mist in the air, and hung there for a second, before the wispy smoke billowed away. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes. He told himself that it was because of the intense cold, but his heart told him otherwise. Meg. The girl with the cornflower blue stare who played with the tassels of her scarf whenever she was embarrassed. Meg. The girl whose lips tasted like honey, and whose laugh sounded like the gentle tinkling of silver bells. Meg. The love of his life.

He had first realized that he had fallen in love with Meg when he had seen her on Bandstand, as she sat in the judge's seat, her eyebrow's furrowed in concentration, and biting her lower lip as she tried to come up with a score. Her golden-blonde hair had been twisted into a simple bun, and her clothes were plain, but had a certain look of elegance when Meg wore them. But it was her face he fell in love with. That smooth brow, that was so often furrowed in deep thought, those delicate lashes, which veiled her large eyes, her perfectly shaped eyebrows, her sensitive mouth and nose. Those eyes. That smile. It was love.

Roxanne's leather high heels clattered on the cement sidewalk. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her reflection glaring off of the glass at the showcase of a clothing store. Her usual thick eye makeup and cakey blush were wiped off her face, and she saw herself for who she really was. She had just turned into a boy-crazy girl because it was something that could hide her true, unsure self. Her deliberate saunters and flirty looks were replaced by limping and teary eyes. Her father had abused her when she was little, and had made her do things she never wanted to remember. By throwing herself at every guy she saw, she thought that it would even out the score with her and her father, and maybe not make her feel as dirty and ugly as her father had insisted that she was every night before dragging her to his bedroom to do the unthinkable.

It was Meg who had brought her out of her shell, who saw her for who she really was, not some slut who wore miniskirts that looked like she had tied a sock around her hips, and sweaters that were 12 sizes to small. She had always made her laugh, which her unusual antics and odd faces. But it was her eyes that Roxanne loved most about her. So expressive, so full of life, always sparkling with laughter. Her brown eyes had long since turned dull after all those days lying on her father's bed in the morning, the part between her legs hurting, and the bed cold and wet. Alone.

Meg was all she had left. Without her... well, it wouldn't come to that, she decided, jogging to catch up with Luke, while trying vainly to pull down her 3-inch skirt, which hitched up while she walked. Without Meg, she was nothing.

Luke sighed, staring at the poster slathered on the wall, screaming "Bandstand Tonight!" Without Meg, this was nothing. Life was nothing. Without Meg, he was nothing.